Legend of the Timekeepers Read Free Page B

with a stinger tail using one of my hair…”
    “A serqet, Lilith,” the old priestess corrected as she pulled a small ceramic vial out of the metal-flaked pouch attached to the white sash around her thin waist. “And there are no accidents. All is as it should be.”
    The old priestess was starting to creep out Lilith. No accidents? All is as it should be? Lilith’s stomach started to ache. She couldn’t stop the dark memories searing through her mind, reliving the destruction of her homeland, watching everything she knew disappear from the safety of their southbound ship. The loud bang. Thick, dark spiraling smoke. A brown-black sky. No moon, no stars, no sun. Cold, sour air. The relentless rain. The roaring gales. The flooded lands. It was all too much. They had gotten away by the grace of Poseidon.
    Her fingers curled into her palms, and she winced at the tender spots she had recently cut into. Lilith cleared her throat. “How can you say that? What happened in Atlantis was not how it should be. Those people, my people, shouldn’t have been made to suffer and die like that!”
    The old priestess made a sound like a small animal dying. She wiped the sweat from Tau’s brow, his ebony hair now flat and damp, and opened his mouth with two spindly fingers. She pulled out the wooden stopper from the vial and carefully poured the liquid into his mouth. “You’re naïve if you think your fellow Atlanteans didn’t deserve what they got. You give out, you get back. The only people left on Atlantis when it crumbled into nothingness were those who went against the teachings of the Children of the Law of One. In your heart, you know this. The Sons of Belial deserved worse for choosing to worship ease and pleasure over love and kindness.”
    Before Lilith could reply, Tau moaned, coughed, then lunged forward. The old priestess held him by the shoulders while his breathing became easier. She giggled—almost sounding child-like—and then gently stroked the back of his neck. Then she checked over Tau’s hand. Lilith noticed the swelling had gone down considerably, leaving only a small, red puncture mark to attest to Tau’s misfortune. “You’ll be fine, Tau. You are lucky you have a friend in Lilith.”
    Tau snorted. “She is not my friend, Istulo. She’s as vengeful as the serqet.”
    Lilith’s eyes widened. So this broken-down old woman was Istulo? Somehow, Lilith felt mildly disappointed, like she was expecting someone grander, more auspicious-looking. She frowned.
    Istulo pinched his neck and held firm. “You need to decide who you would rather be stung by—a creature of habit or a creature of nature?”
    “Do I have another choice?” Tau asked, gritting his teeth.
    Istulo raised a grizzled brow. “There are always choices, Tau. You need to remember that you must live with your choices and no one else’s. But before you make your choice, remember habits can be broken, but nature is one’s true essence. So, who do you choose—the serqet or Lilith?”
    Tau smirked. Lilith rolled her eyes. He must be feeling better.
    “Perhaps he needs to feel the sting of my tongue,” Lilith said curtly.
    Tau grinned. “Believe me, I already have.”
    Lilith’s whole body straightened, then she threw back her head and laughed. It was the first time she had laughed like that in a long time. She didn’t even care if her long hair was unbound, it felt freeing, like she had given herself permission to be five years old again.
    “Feels good doesn’t it, Lilith?” Istulo asked.
    Catching her breath, Lilith nodded greedily. Then, she straightened. “Hey, how do you know my name? We’ve never met before, have we?”
    “Have we?” Istulo asked Lilith, a trace of a smile chased her lips.
    “I’m sure I would remember you,” Lilith replied, shrugging. “Are you from Atlantis?”
    Her bristly chin moved slightly. “Yes, once, long ago. Another lifetime I suppose. I’ve moved to many places, learned many things,